Home
by DunSpiroSpero
Summary: "These are the times when he lets his mind wander. He thinks about what is and what could have been. When he is taking the guilt trip otherwise known as the ride home."


**A/N: **Set sometime during Season 12. Leave a review and let me know what you think. Seriously. Like it, love it, hate it? Let me know.

These are the times when he lets his mind wander. He thinks about what is and what could have been. When he is taking the guilt trip otherwise known as the ride home. They have already said their goodbyes for the night, whether it was at the precinct or outside of her apartment building. It's wrong. He knows it is wrong, and as hard as he tries, he can't stop himself from doing it. At least not permanently.

He thinks about her. Her ever-changing hair. Sometimes she dies it, sometimes she cuts it off, sometimes she grows it out. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter how she has it, because he'll love it however. He never tells her, though. Because that is not them. And it never will be them.

They are stolen glances, unspoken thoughts, and moments left unacknowledged. She is everything he wants and everything he can't have.

He's not in love with Kathy, and he's not entirely sure that he ever has been. He married her because it was the right thing to do. His responsibility, his duty. What is Elliot Stabler if not dutiful. His family defines him, makes up his character.

Elliot Stabler: husband, father, Catholic, _partner._

He's her partner, _for better or worse._

He thinks about whether or not things would have been different if Kathy hadn't gotten pregnant, or if he'd met Olivia first. Maybe not. Maybe this was how things were meant to be. He knows that they were supposed to be a duo, Elliot and Olivia. They work too well together. He just doesn't know how.

Usually this is about as far as he gets, because by this time he's usually outside of his home.

His _home._

Except, it doesn't feel like home anymore. His children are all grown up, with the exception of little Eli. He's three now, and he wonders where the time went. Three years ago, he had been so willing to try with his marriage, with Kathy. Truthfully, he's tired, and he knows that they're beating a dead horse with this one.

But tonight, he's not home. Tonight, he got stuck in traffic, and he's alloted more time to think. Great.

He wonders what happened to him and his partner in the four years since she left for Oregon. They're not as simple as they were. They're more complex, and sometimes it's hard, but they get through, because they always have.

Tonight, when he'd dropped her off outside of her apartment, he'd considered asking her to blink her lights. But that was then. This is now, and he has to deal with the harsh reality. He'll never have her in the way he wants her, so he'll take her any way he can get her. Partner. Best friend. It's all he can ask for, and yet it's not enough. And it never will be enough.

She's a jaded cop, and so is he, maybe even more so.

He loves her, and he doesn't know when, or for how long, just a long time. Too long. He doesn't know if she knows, nor does he know if she shares in his feelings. It's all just a big mess, and he wishes that it were still the good ole' days when he was a happily married man, and she was the green rookie who needed the ropes shown to her.

Kathy. Kathy, his wife of twenty plus years, and he loves her, how could he not? She's given him five beautiful children, and at least fifteen good years. He tells himself that they've tried, and that that's all there's left to do, because really, what else is there? They haven'y had sex in longer than he's willing to admit. He just thinks that somewhere down the road, they'd lost want for each other.

And he wants it to work for Eli, because he wants to give him what his siblings had the privelege of receiving. An intact family. So that's why he stays. That and his undying faith in his religion. Right.

He's home, finally, and he closes he door behind him silently, because he doesn't want to wake his wife. She always wants to talk nowadays, and he doesn't feel up to it. He takes the stairs up to their shared bedroom, and quietly toes off his work shoes. His slacks are next, and his dress shirt follows shortly after.

He crawls into bed beside her, and her breathing isn't right. Isn't as slow as it should be, as it usually is. She's awake. He can tell, and he wonders briefly how long she's been this way. If she has waited up all night for him, or if the creak of the bedroom door had aroused her from her sleep. She always had been a light sleeper.

He considers saying something, _Hi, how was your day?_, but decides against it.

Try his ass.

It's over. The marriage is over, and he's just waiting for the ball to drop. He can't walk away. It goes against everything he believes in. But he figures that sooner or later, she will. And it'll go something like,

_Elliot, you're shutting me out, _or

_You haven't touched me in a year, _or maybe

_You care about that job more than you do your own family, _or perhaps it'll be all three. But he knows one thing for sure. When it happens, he'll be okay with it, and the thought makes him feel like crap.

The gold band on his finger feels unusually cold against his skin, or maybe it's just him.

Olivia. She's always his final thought before he dozes off, and it's always something he loves about her. Sometimes it's her eyes, and sometimes it's her smile, and sometimes it's her getting rough with a perp, and sometimes it's her smile, and sometimes it's her laugh, and sometimes it's her sympathizing with a victim.

This is when he thinks that maybe he loves everything about her, and maybe she's the most important thing in his life, and that maybe, even after all these years, she's still all that he has anymore.

_end_


End file.
